


Hecking Vampires

by InfernalPume



Category: Leviathan - Scott Westerfeld
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bloodlust, Canon Rewrite, Feeding, Other, Predator/Prey, Vampires, idk usual vampire gothic shit idk, no not that kind, triggers?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 13:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9388157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfernalPume/pseuds/InfernalPume
Summary: you know what great I always knew that this was gonna be a thing whoopdie doo GREAT I'm GLAD i got the prompt because I was gonna have to do one of these sooner or later and you know what freaking vampires arent even the worst so here we go theres vampires now vampire leviathan it wasnt enough that there were giant flying whales now theres vampires too here you go.





	1. Chapter 1

Alek stood at the edge of the glacial crater, astonished by what he saw below.

 

The wreck looked like a corner of hell bubbling up through the snow. Flocks of winged creatures coiled around hollows in the wilting gasbag. Crewmen moved across the great beast's skin, accompanied by bizarre double-snouted, six-legged dogs that sniffed and pawed at every bullet hole. Looking closer, he could see that they _moved_ strangely too, some of them lifted debris no son of god could manage on his own, others scaled flanks of the deflated air beast like insects without rope to hang onto. Rumors of the British turning their soldiers into monsters crept into the forefront of Alek’s mind, causing him to shudder.

 

All this was simply too much. The stench, so much like the fish he had for dinner, the men who crawled like maggots across the sickly flesh of the air beast, the German’s argument of exterminating them all suddenly seemed a bit more reasonable. The Darwinists were were an insult to nature, and perhaps even all good things in the world.

 

And yet he couldn't take his eyes from the creature. Even lying wounded it looked so powerful, more like something from legend than the work of men.

 

Four searchlights flared to life, illuminating one flank of the creature. Alek could see now why the beast had rolled sideways during the crash: The gondolas hanging from its underside had escaped being flattened against the snow.

 

As he stole down the length of the airship, the green glow seemed to be bleeding out onto the ice. Surely the beast was dying. He'd been a fool to think he could help. Perhaps he should just leave the medicines somewhere and slip away...

 

Alek gasped aloud when he slid down too quickly, landing on something soft and dark with a _thud_. Immediately he leapt away, the ridiculous snowshoes tangling together in his retreat. In a panic Alek unhooked his boots from them to scramble back further, only to realize he had no reason to fear the figure at all. More so then after catching that first awful glimpse of the carnage, Alek’s stomach lurched. He forced himself to walk closer, forced himself to bear witness to what lay broken in the snow.

 

It was obvious the boy was dead.

 

Definitely not as a result of Alek so rudely dropping in on him, from the stillness of his shape and dread that permeated the air it was obvious the boy had left the realm of the living perhaps even before impact. Stubbornly Alek fought the warning of a sob in his throat. He ought to move on, but it didn’t feel right leaving a soldier to be buried by snow. Even if he belonged to an airborne circus of nightmares, he had still been a person once, and thus deserved Alek’s respect.

 

Or maybe Alek just needed moral retribution for leaving the man he killed in the wheat field all those weeks ago. He wasn’t completely certain.

 

Alek pulled a scalpel from the bag of medicines and went about sawing the boy’s safety lines. He was about half way through cutting him free when he first caught a glimpse of his face. Again Alek’s stomach lurched, but not entirely with disgust.

 

The first thought that ran through Alek’s mind was that this had to be the most _beautiful_ corpse he had ever laid eyes on.

 

That wasn’t saying much, admittedly. The only dead bodies Alek was familiar with were that of decrepit relatives in their open caskets and that guard from the wheat field. But gazing upon the boys face Alek felt an overwhelming amicability to him, as if he were only dozing.

 

His skin was a deathly pale, eyes darkened at the edges with postmortem. But despite this his sandy hair seemed to gleam in the green lighting, coupled with a soft shine to perfect pink lips and long pale lashes. Even his face, deflated from its loss of a soul, seemed only to become more angular and elegant. Alek wondered what kind of boy he had been in life to be so striking in death, then shook the thoughts from his head.

 

Beautiful or no, this airman was a _dead_ airman, and Alek was more determined to honor his body then ever.

 

Finally the boy was freed from his harness and Alek dropped the scalpel to drag him out into the open where his crew would find him. The rest was up to the Darwinists, whatever their customs might be. Alek crawled back to his snowshoes on hands and knees, not daring to escape without them.

 

Before he reached them, however, he yelped and snatched his hand away from where it had supported his weight. He saw a coat of his own blood paint the scalpel blade, as well as droplets speckling the snow as he tried to stop the bleeding. The surgical edge had sliced right through his leather glove, but luckily the resistance was enough to keep him from damaging his hand. The wound was more akin to a paper cut then anything, but the _irritating_ kind that bled for all its insignificance.

 

Groaning under his breath Alek went about reattaching his show shoes with one hand, not noticing the rustle of movement behind him. This might have been a good thing, if Alek had actually witnessed how the body rose to its feet like a phantom marionette he might have screamed and alerted the others to his location. Instead he only gasped with surprise when a strong grip tackled him and pinned him to the snow.

 

Immediately on alert, Alek struggled to break free but was unable. Though the gloved hands that held him were undoubtedly human the force behind them was anything but. He would have an easier time breaking free from a pair of kraken fighting arms! Alek was rotated to lie on his back, like a dog exposing the belly of its prey.

 

The boy, the beautiful, ghostly, and very much _dead_ boy was looming over him, features sunken and eyes blazing with feral aggression. Alek might have strangled out a scream if not for the force on his chest. Though he looked as ragged as an animal his chest did not heave or at all contort with breath. It was as if he were a shadow given shape, still and oppressive as he held Alek captive. His gaze glanced frantically across Alek’s prone form, eventually fixing on the bloody hand pinned to Alek’s chest.

 

Pupils more like slits quivered as they watched the blood seep into Alek’s clothes, then slowly and deliberately peeled Alek’s arm away from his chest. Though the creature did not brace himself Alek was still unable to snatch his hand back, only watch in horror as the corpse inspected his wound and brought it to his lips. The air that surrounded them was frigid, but nothing Alek could have imagined was more chilling then the flick of the boy’s tongue over his open cut.

 

Immediately the stinging of the petty injury abated. Whether this was by the same witchcraft that animated the dead or his own terror Alek didn’t know, but he could feel paralysis creeping down his arm and leaving his body entirely out of his own control. All Alek could move were his eyes, which glanced into that of the corpse and felt his very soul freeze in his gaze. Everything else seemed to melt away. The pain of the boy’s grip, the freezing air, even the darkness surrounding them seemed unimportant as he met the boys eyes. Very faintly he was aware of a mouth opening, teeth long and sharp coming closer to him, but Alek found he was unable to care.

 

Then all he could see was the side of the boy’s head, feel the soft cartilage of his ear grazing Alek’s chin.

 

Everything felt so warm, Alek’s own body especially. Almost _too_ warm, almost _sweltering._ How had Alek not noticed how sickeningly hot his own body was? He was acutely aware of the pumping of his blood, the squelching of his organs. It was disgusting, confusing, disorienting, like the drugs his men had used the night they stole him away from Prague. Thinking of that night made him burn all the more painfully. He wanted it to stop, so repulsed by searing despair.

 

Something cold and powerful was close to him, its touch so refreshingly cool in comparison to his own putrid heat. Alek knew what it was doing, knew it was trying to steal his heat. Would it really be so horrible to give it what it wanted? Let it all slip away to an empty darkness, a place without mourning or war. He would be able to rest; finally he’d be able to just _rest._ Like his parents, like the guard in the wheat field, like the broken boy he had found in the snow, like Da in the alleyway.

 

The last image sent a jolt through Alek, immediately recognizing it as not being his own. Reality returned to him and Alek was able to shove the creature away.

 

The corpse fell back to sit on his heels as Alek sucked in a breath of cold air. Both of them took a moment to be dazed, before Alek noticed quite a bit more blood on the front of his jacket. Slowly his gaze traveled upwards and fixed on the crimson lips of his attacker. The boy himself seemed to be having a similar revelation, as he brought his own hand to his mouth and looked down at the redness on his glove.

 

The look of horror on his face managed to make him seem more human, if only just.

 

 

“Blisters,” he choked, “I _really_ wasn’t supposed to do that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I continued it because I'm having fun

Deryn had made a mistake.

 

That at least was obvious. They weren’t allowed to drink fresh blood, feeding from a human was the highest offense a legal undead such as herself could commit. But there were other complications that Deryn needed to sort out as well.

 

For one she had no idea who this boy was. He wasn’t one of theirs, the boy was quite obviously human. That Deryn knew by the pulse she could hear in his throat, and the terror her heightened senses could smell on him a mile away. There was also the fact that his blood was currently coursing through Deryn’s own body, as rejuvenating and pleasant as a cup of tea.

 

And that was another thing. His blood, Deryn noticed, felt a lot more invigorating then her usual dosage. That wasn’t a mystery either. Deryn had blacked out before crashing, or ‘run out of spunk’ as her peers like to say. Deryn had never been daft enough to miss a feeding before today and supposedly the first after being revived felt better then the daily allotment. That wasn’t a problem, Deryn shouldn’t focus on that at the moment.

 

She pushed the euphoria out of her mind to consider more pressing matters.

 

The boy looked reasonably shaken by this whole ordeal. From clothes Deryn would have to say he was some sort of smuggler’s son, likely having come here to see if he could loot anything from the wreckage. The thought made Deryn smirk, served him right for trying to rob a dead soldier. But still, if he was someone as lowly as a looter he likely had no idea what in blazes had just happened to him. Though of the London Epidemic of 1890 was famous amongst Darwinist powers Deryn remembered they had been flying over neutral territory before the crash. It was very possible that word hadn’t spread to this corner of the world yet. Deryn knew from personal experience that being bitten was something akin to a nightmare, even knowing full well what was going on.

 

Thankfully he seemed to stunned to scream or escape, only stare up at her like she was something monstrous. Which in all fairness was an accurate description of the truth. Still, couldn’t have a terrified human running about, especially if he went to warn his village.

 

“Sorry about that,” she said politely, “A bit rude of me, I’ll admit.”

 

Even as she laughed she didn’t take her eyes off him, prepared to pounce if he tried to get away. But for now at least she tried to be friendly. Her words seemed to snap the boy out of his trance. He tried to scramble back, arms and legs sinking into the snow.

 

“Wait!,” Deryn cried, “It was just a little mistake! I’m not going hurt you- here, let me help you up.”

 

“Stay back!” He cried, holding up that pitiful little knife he had cut himself on.

 

Frozen in her tracks Deryn inspected the blade and tried not to laugh. She’d find a sharper edge on her own fingernail! Putting up her hands in surrender, Deryn tried again.

 

“Alright. I’ll just stay over here and you over there and we’ll talk aye?”

 

“I will not negotiate with an _abomination.”_

 

Deryn’s patience was beginning to wear thin. Still, she was going to remain respectful. This conversation could well shape how negotiations between her crew and the nearest village won out.

 

“I’m not an abomination,” she said calmly, “I’m a “Legal Undead”. That means that in the eyes of the King and Parliament I am just as much a person as you. And people usually don’t take kindly to insults.”

 

This explanation seemed to only drain his face of more color, if that was at all possible.  

 

 _“Legal Undead?”_ he repeated, “You’re one of those blood-sucking monstrosities from London!”

 

“Aye, but the term ‘blood-sucking monstrosity’ isn’t entirely necessary,” she said, “No need to feed into the stigma.”

 

The boy barked out a something between a howl of pain and a peel of laughter.

 

“Stigma?” he shouted, “You’re _covered in my blood!”_

 

Deryn opened her mouth to shoot a rebuttal but found none. He had a point.

 

“I _said_ I was sorry,” She muttered, then shook her head.

 

Had the living always been so barking _unreasonable?_ Deryn hoped she hadn’t been. But then, she was probably the first legal undead the boy had ever met, unlike Deryn who grew up surrounded by them. He didn’t know that her attacking him was not normal or acceptable behavior, didn’t know that Deryn stood to be staked for it. A sudden unpleasant thought occurred to her. If she didn’t win the boy over, he’d tell the officers she had bitten him.

 

“Lets just calm down and start over,” Deryn said carefully, “My name-“

 

“I don’t _care_ what your name is-“

 

“- _is Dylan._ Dylan Sharp. I’m a legal undead serving aboard this ship. I didn’t mean to jump you, but that’s what happens when someone like me goes without feeding for too long.”

 

She pointed up at the _Leviathan,_ “I blacked out in the crash, and where I come from people with any sense don’t approach a blacked out undead. So really, if you think about it, this is just as much your fault as it is mine.”

 

This seemed to calm him some, in that he no longer cowered in fear but instead looked at her like she was utterly mad.

 

_“Excuse me?”_

 

“Look,” Deryn said, “You don’t understand how I work and the last time I spoke to someone like you was…blisters _years_ ago. So how about we both try to be a bit more understanding of the other’s situation and-“

 

He was running away now. Barking _brilliant_.

 

Deryn only meant to close the distance and take hold of his shoulder, but found her body moving faster then usual. Unused to this new speed and force she collided with the boy and pinned him once again to the ice. He kicked and struggled with all the force he could muster, but Deryn couldn’t tell if he was actually this weak or she was still riding the high of fresh blood.

 

Either way, talking it out hadn’t proven effective.

 

Deryn forcefully yanked the boy onto his back and gripped his chin so he had to look at her. Now that she wasn’t blinded by bloodlust, Deryn saw that he had rather nice eyes. They were green and deep, and unlike her own or any soldier’s aboard the _Leviathan,_ had a flicker of life dancing in them. Although right now that life seemed a bit distracted to dance, choosing instead to quiver with terror.

 

That wasn’t a problem, Deryn could put a stop to that. Or at least she hoped she could, the last time Deryn had tried was ten years ago. She blinked slowly, hoping that when her lids parted he would be blind and deaf to all the world. Just as he had done before, the boy stopped struggling. The look of absolute submission he gave her reminded Deryn with a jolt how his blood had tasted, but she pushed that thought away irritably.

 

“That’s better, isn’t it?” she asked, and smiled sadly as he nodded dumbly.

 

“Alright, how about you tell me your name?”

 

“Alek…” he mumbled.

 

“Its nice to meet you Alek,” Deryn said, “I’m afraid you wont remember this, but you can introduce yourself again.”

 

She grimaced.

 

“I really _am_ very sorry. But you can’t tell the officers I nipped you, alright?”

 

Alek didn’t respond to this, but she hadn’t expected him to. Even back when she first experimented with her Mesmer she could never make commands carry out of the trance. That was alright though, at least she had the time to clean him off.

 

With only snow that she had to use carefully so as not to freeze him, Deryn managed to wipe all the blood off his skin and hands. There was nothing she could do about the two tiny pinpricks where her fangs had pierced him, but he was wearing a scarf so she wrapped it deliberately about his neck. It was lucky his clothes were black and brown, even though she could see in the dark Deryn was unable to notice where the blood had stained him. The only thing left to worry about was the smell, but Deryn knew that everyone would be too distracted by his heartbeat to care much about that. Even Mesmerized Deryn could feel his pulse thudding in her ears as if he were beating her upside the head with drumsticks.

 

Deryn commanded Alek to rise and follow her out of the ditch they landed in.


	3. Chapter 3

For all his words, it seemed Dylan took no issue with slamming Alek into the snow for a second time. And why would he? Alek knew about the rumored monsters that served aboard British Airships. Creatures neither alive or dead, soulless, _damned._ Killing men while their backs were turned was likely all the rage on this godless airship _._

 

Still, Alek didn’t want to go down without a fight no matter how pitiful his final effort may be. It seemed the boys grip was even _stronger_ then it had been before, Alek tried not to think about the fact it was probably his own stolen blood granted Dylan this new power.

 

Cold fingers grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look into Dylan’s face. Alek swore to himself that he wouldn’t meet the boys eyes, refused to let himself be dominated. This was all in vain, before he knew it he was transported back to that strange world where nothing existed besides his own uncomfortable body heat and Dylan’s piercing eyes.

 

Even if Alek had wanted to fight it this time, he found himself unable to. The cold emptiness was calling to him, his own soul boiling in his body desperate to be stolen by this monster. Again he thought of his parents, wondering if he would see them in that endless vacuum he was about to slip away into. Alek’s veins began to burn and he waited patiently for Dylan to drain his life away.

 

But he didn’t.

 

Unlike before, the heat didn’t grow unbearable or fill him with panic. Alek just floated in this strange state of mind, unable to fight back but also unable to feel pain. Here there seemed to be no war, no death, no icy tundra infested with bloodsucking fiends. It was almost _pleasant,_ a relief from a weight that had been crushing him ever since the night he fled from his home. Absently he wondered if this was death, if the monster had at least been merciful enough to kill him quickly. Or maybe this was just some sick game, making him relaxed and vulnerable to …sweeten his blood or something. Alek couldn’t form an opinion of either possibilities, couldn’t force himself to care about anything as long as he felt so warm and safe.

 

And then, just as suddenly as he had entered this state, it was gone.

 

Alek’s body jerked back and tripped on something hard, causing him to lose his balance. Prepared to land on the hard ice, Alek instead felt sheets and a mattress. Opening his eyes he sat up, and found himself in some kind of bedroom. From where he sat, Alek could see he had tripped on the wooden frame of the bed he sat perched atop. A few more moments to take in his surroundings, he noticed that a blanket had been wrapped around his shoulders, and the cut on his hand cleaned and wrapped up in bandages.

 

The first thought that came to Alek’s head made him groan with humiliation. Obviously Volger or one of his men had come after him, spotted Dylan’s attack, and fought the creature off. Alek had been brought here and cleaned up, a perfect stupid prince who couldn’t possibly ever take care of himself. He knew that once his head stopped spinning Volger would be here to give him a verbal lashing. Slowly reality crept back into Alek’s mind, the war, his idiocy, and the frigid air.

 

And _gods wounds_ but it was freezing!

 

Even though he was inside Alek could feel the wind raking its fingers down his back. Had Volger purposely left Alek’s window open to punish him? That seemed entirely unnecessary. Alek rose with indignation to shut the window and found that instead of stone he was met with a metal porthole. The wind blew from the outside through the chipped glass, flecks of snow collecting on the desk below it. Outside was not the tactical view of the valley, but instead nothing but white ice in every direction.

 

Alek was inside the _Leviathan’s_ gondola.

 

Immediately he dropped the blanket’s pitiful warmth and tried to open the door, even knowing it was locked. Of course, why would these monsters kill him off now? They must know that Alek had come from _somewhere,_ and with their ship crashed he imagined they were in need of more then just supplies. An army was only as strong as a soldier’s appetite was sated.

 

He had damned them. In a futile attempt to save the enemy Alek had damned them all!

 

Not only the lives of Volger and his men, but of the empire as well. Without him to inherit the throne, this war could wage for years to come. Perhaps _centuries_ if the rumors of the British monsters’ immortality were true.

 

“Idiot…” he moaned to himself, falling back onto his cot, “You complete and utter _idiot…”_

 

Alek jumped when he heard the keys turn in the lock, and as the door swung open he didn’t even look up from the floor. There was no point in fighting them. Dylan alone had made a fool of his 16 years of combat training, what could Alek do against more then _one?_

 

“Oh,” A voice came from the doorway, “You didn’t eat your potato.”

 

Whatever words Alek expected those were not it. He frowned and looked up to see who looked disappointedly at a tray that rested by the door.

 

 _“You.”_ Alek hissed, standing at alert.

 

Dylan looked up and smiled at him, flashing clean white teeth that had punctured Alek’s skin what felt like moments ago. “Aye, its me. Nice to see you’re doing well.”

 

“No thanks to you, _abomination._ ”

 

Some semblance of hurt flashed across his features, and if not for the teeth Alek might have thought him a normal boy, but soon the expression passed and he was smiling that awful smile again.

 

“That’s a bit rude,” he said, “Considering I made your dinner.”

 

He nodded again at the tray, where there was indeed a baked potato placed unceremoniously in what looked like a dog bowl.

 

“We had to fight over who got to make it, we never really have an excuse to cook,” He went on, “Newkirk won the coin toss, but you’re _my_ snowboy, so I put my foot down.”

 

For a moment Alek was too baffled to even be offended, but that didn’t last long.

 

“I’m not _your_ anything!” he snapped, “And you need to let me go at once!”

 

Dylan nodded, “That’s true enough, we need to get you back to your relations so we can have a word with your mechanic.”

 

Alek felt something cold slide into his stomach.

 

“How do you know we have a mechanic?” he demanded.

 

The fear in Alek’s voice seemed to baffle Dylan, that or the devil took some amusement from this entire exchange.

 

“What, you don’t remember?” he shook his head, “I guess that’s understandable, if I were interrogated I’d probably just blabber about all sorts of things until they let me go, and the officers had you for _hours._ ”

 

When the horror on Alek’s face didn’t soften, Dylan adopted a similar expression.

 

“What, they had you _Mesmerized_ the whole time?” he said, “Oh…that’s not good…”

 

He looked away and chewed nervously on his knuckle, sharp fangs digging into the leather. Alek was confused. He knew why it was bad for _him_ to have all of his secrets extracted without his notice, but why on earth would Dylan care? In the blink of an eye Dylan was upon him again, gripping his shoulders and drawing him close to his face.

 

“Do you remember what you told them?”

 

If Alek hadn’t experienced first hand that Dylan was below such emotions, he could have sworn he saw fear in the boy’s eyes. This threw Alek off guard, and answered truthfully before he could stop himself.

 

“I don’t even recall _meeting_ your officers.” 

 

Dyaln dropped him and began to pace in tight fast circles. “Not good… _not good.”_ he muttered.

“What does it matter to you?” Alek found himself asking.

 

Dylan looked up at him and opened his mouth, before something seemed to dawn on him.

 

 _“The Lady Boffin,”_ Dylan said, grabbing Alek by the arm, “She’s practically _run_ the ship since she’s come aboard, everything the officers know she does too. She can tell us what you said!”

 

And then Alek was being dragged down a corridor behind the boy, unable to distinguish where one movement ended and the next began. And it wasn’t like Alek could fight back, the boys grip was like iron and he towed him along with a steady unbreakable pace.

 

“But why are you bringing _me?”_ Alek asked.

 

“I’m not bringing you, I’m kindly escorting you _home_ like the officers ordered me to.” Dylan said, “But I’m just going to stop by our _other_ guest on the way to see if she needs anything before we head off.”

 

Perhaps it was the affirmation that Alek was indeed being sent home safely, perhaps it was the fact that suddenly Dylan had his own reasons to gather information Alek needed as well, but Alek found himself trusting the boy as if he were human. Well, enough to venture a question, anyway.

 

“…And who would that other guest be?”


	4. Chapter 4

Doctor Barlow raised an eyebrow as Deryn dragged Alek into the machine room for inspection. After a moment Deryn realized that this was less because of the human she presented to him and more because in her mad panic Deryn had forgotten to bow. With a jerk Deryn remembered her manners and swept out an arm in the Lady Boffin’s direction.

 

“May I introduce Dr. Nora Barlow.” She said smartly, snapping her heels together as if she were at a formal dance. 

 

Alek inspected her with the same suspicion he had Deryn.

 

“A pleasure to meet you,” Doctor Barlow said, “Alek, isn’t it?”

 

The boy stiffened momentarily and Deryn worried he might try to bolt again before he offered a polite bow.

 

“At your service,” he responded, then jerked again when Tazza came to nuzzle his hand.

 

Even as his pulse quickened with disgust, he made no move to defend himself. For the first time Deryn noticed what a posh little thing he was. There had been rumors that he spoke of a barking _castle_ when interrogated, Deryn was starting to suspect it hadn’t been entirely bleather.

 

“I was just stopping by to see if you needed anything, mam,” Deryn said quickly, “And perhaps ask what the officers might be thinking about Alek here.”

 

For long moments Doctor Barlow studied them both, Deryn wondered if the jig was already up and marines were on their way. Instead the Lady Boffin snapped for Tazza, who went to shove his nose under her gloved palm.

 

“I have been told that he wasn’t very responsive in his interrogation,” she finally said, “Only giving his name and descriptions of a few members of his family. One of which we need if we are ever to take to the skies in time. We are to escort him home safely, and humbly request they help us with our repairs”

 

Deryn took in a breath only so she could sigh with relief. Twitchy and posh he may be, but at least he had been just as stubborn with the officers as he had been with her. Before Deryn was able to bow and take her leave, Alek spoke up.

 

“And what name did I give?” he asked.

 

“If I knew you by a name other then ‘Alek’ I would call you by it. It seemed you could barely remember anything more then your own name.” Doctor Barlow’s gaze slid to Deryn momentarily, “It was almost as if you had _already_ been Mesmerized.”

 

That comment shot straight into Deryn’s heart, almost causing it to beat again from nerves alone. A silence followed after that, until Alek spoke again.

 

“Can you…’legal undead’ not tell if someone is Memorized?”

 

Even in the thick tension Deryn couldn’t help but snort.

 

“Doctor Barlow’s not undead,” She said.

 

Alek looked back to Doctor Barlow who flashed a smile of perfect flat teeth and nodded her head.

 

“That is correct. I am merely vaccinated.” She explained, “It allows me both protection from the condition as well as some of it’s attributes, but to a lesser extent, and only temporarily.”

 

This time Alek was quick to respond.

 

“If there is a vaccination, I would ask that my family and I be offered it as well.” He said.

 

“And why would you want something like that?”

 

“I may be wrong, but I believe ‘vaccination’ is what is commonly used to prevent _infection_ ,” he answered.

 

 _Blisters,_ Deryn thought, knowing where this conversation was going. She should have known being Memorized twice in so little a timeframe meant her slip up was safe, but now she had brought the only threat to her career right up to a greater authority then even the captain.

 

“Ah, I see,” Doctor Barlow said, “I can’t say I recommend it, it really is the most _ghastly_ medication. I only administered myself as a formality. It is the law, you see, but completely unnecessary for you and your family. We will likely finish our transactions and be gone before the vaccine would even come into effect.”

 

Alek nodded at this, but still frowned.

 

“Then you must forgive any hesitation from my family to comply with your requests.” He said flatly.

 

“If you are afraid for their safety you have nothing to worry about. “Mr. Sharp, why don’t you offer our guest a seat?” She said, nodding to a chair.

 

“I prefer to stand, thank you,” Alek insisted coldly, but Deryn pulled out the chair and pressed him down anyway.

 

More then anything she wanted to grab him and chuck him out the window, all the way back to his supposed castle where he would never be a bother to her again, but also understood that without the right communication the _Leviathan_ might not survive the night.

 

“I understand you might have heard all sorts of rumors about our special little _subculture_ ,” Doctor Barlow said, “Allow me to take the time to put your mind at ease.”

 

Again Deryn wanted to laugh, hearing such a fancy word applied to the _actual_ definition of her social standing. Deryn got the feeling Alek was either looking at her or trying very hard not to, so just in case he was she gave a little nod. It wasn’t like anything Doctor Barlow would explain Deryn hadn’t already tried to herself, but it was a lot easier hearing these things from someone who wasn’t dripping blood from the mouth.

 

“The epidemic began in 1980 when a virus was introduced to our city by way of immigrants. In the years that followed, infection spread rapidly across the population, particularly through slums and prostitution rings.”

 

Deryn tried not to roll her eyes at this. That was a common misconception, the idea that only the lowly _adulterers_ had contracted the disease. It wasn’t so much that the slums invited the infection, but more because no one bothered to protect the little people. The boffins liked words like “epidemic” and “exposure” but the reality of the situation was that people were being _attacked_ in their own homes. Those who couldn’t afford iron doors or thick latches on their windows had no way of defending themselves. Those poorer neighborhoods were a constant warzone, everyone trying to protect their kin from a creeping evil veiled in human shape.

 

 

“…However,” Doctor Barlow continued, “At around the turn of the century a vaccination was developed and administered, allowing authorities to isolate the victims and search for treatment. While we were able to extinguish some of the negative side effects we are still searching for a complete cure. In the meantime any citizens who are infected have a choice of living in an isolated community with their peers, kindly offering their time to the pursuit of scientific advancement, or serving the King in airships like these.”

 

Not _entirely_ a lie, but definitely spoken like a politician and not someone who had ever been exposed to the so-called ‘subculture’ of vampirism. Everyone knew the undead ‘communities’ were little more then prisons shaped like villages, armed forces surrounding them at all times ensuring none come in or out. As for ‘offering time in the pursuit of science’, those experiments were supposed to be so inhumane that volunteers begged for the stake in a matter of days. The only choice Deryn had for a decent life was the Air Force, and for that she had to disguise herself as a man.

 

“This is all very enlightening,” Alek said, “But you’ve yet to address my main concern.”

 

“I can only assume you’re referring to that _horrible_ rumor that the undead drink human blood,” Doctor Barlow responded just as politely as if she were never interrupted, “Which, while based in some fact, is false in these times. While we were unable to completely rid patients of the dependence on blood, its nothing a cocktail of proteins, fats, and fabricated hormones can’t fix. Supposedly one cannot tell the difference, is that right Mr. Sharp?”

 

Deryn forced herself not to express any semblance of guilt and finally allowed herself to meet Alek’s eye.

 

“I wouldn’t know mam,” she said, “Seeing how I’ve only ever had the cocktail.”

 

There were two things Deryn could have done in this instance. She could have hardened her gaze to scare the boy into silence, or maybe try to Memorize him for a third time in one night. Stubbornly Deryn refused both options, merely meeting his gaze with as much dignity as she could muster.

 

For all her bleathering about it being both their fault technically, word had since reached her that Alek had only been trying to help. The officers had found bags of _medicine_ on the poor sod, as if he thought he could swoop in and pass out a few plasters. After everything he’d endured tonight, he didn’t deserved to be threatened by her again.

 

Whatever Alek took from her glance it prepared him for his next question.

 

“And what would happen if an undead were to drink human blood in these times?”

 

At least she had _thought_ he was a good sort, anyway.

 

Doctor Barlow sighed. “The same punishment as any British Citizen would receive for Attempted Homicide, I should think.”

 

This caused Alek to pause, a stretch of time that was excruciating for Deryn.

 

“I understand, Madam,” He said, “I would offer my assistance, but I fear my family would react negatively to finding me in your care. It is imperative that I return home as soon as possible.”

 

“Negatively?” Doctor Barlow asked, “What do we say to that, Mr. Sharp?”

 

Deryn was so ready for her verdict that she almost hadn’t been listening.

 

“I wouldn’t know mam,” she said, “Bring a gift for his Ma?”

 

Alek shot a glare at her and for an awful moment she now he’d expose her now just out of spite, but instead shook his head.

 

“No, you need to let me go back alone before they realize I’m missing,” He said, “If you go _anywhere_ near them they will shoot you!”

 

“How unfriendly!” The Lady Boffin said, “And yet they hired you English tutors of the highest caliber.”

 

Again Alek’s pulse quickened, so much it was almost deafening. Again Deryn was transported back to their first interaction and again she felt the taste of his flesh dance on her tongue. His heart had pounded as hard as it did now, and she had been able to smell the absolute terror in his blood. A powerful and unfamiliar desire returned, Deryn felt herself reasoning that if Alek hadn’t snitched on her yet there really was no reason not to milk the opportunity.

 

The very thought of it was just as abhorrent as it was appealing, Deryn was about ready to find a vaccine for him on her own. Anything so she wouldn’t have to listen to that barking _thudding_ every time he got spooked.

 

Whatever conversation followed in the realm of the living Deryn had been unaware of it completely. All she knew was that once again Doctor Barlow was trying to get her attention.

 

“Pardon, what?” Deryn asked.

 

“I asked how quickly you could deliver a message, Mr. Sharp,” she repeated, “I was assuring our young friend bullets are hardly a problem for us, and I have a feeling you could run across the glacier faster then any other member of the crew.

 

“And what do you mean by that mam?” Deryn asked, cocking an eyebrow.

 

“Only that a large fraction of our cocktail was destroyed in the crash, meaning half rations for everyone. But you don’t exhibit any signs of lethargy, I can only assume you took your last allotment later then scheduled.”

 

Deryn didn’t show any sign of her panic, but it was a close thing.

 

“Lucky thing I did then,” Deryn forced herself to smile, “Else we’d be in a spot of trouble for sure.”


	5. Chapter 5

Alek waited until they were thoroughly out of earshot before listing his demands.

 

“You will tell your superiors that you have taken me back to my cell, return my equipment, then run off somewhere else and pretend to deliver the message.”

 

From the disappointed look he received Alek wondered if Dylan was fully aware of how frightened Alek was underneath his stance. This might have been a moment where the boy would have sighed, if that were an expression his kind was familiar with.

 

“Blackmail, then?” he asked, almost tired, “We’re really going with blackmail?”

 

“You leave me no choice!” Alek cried, “I _need_ to go home, or else all of you will-“

 

Alek cut the sentence short as he realized what he was about to say, causing a smirk to play on Dylan’s lips.

 

“Die?” he offered less then helpfully.

 

“You _know_ what I mean. At the very least, your ship will be destroyed.”

 

“It’ll be destroyed if we _don’t_ ask for your family’s help too,” Dylan said, “And if Doctor Barlow’s right about the cocktail we might all be blacked out under the snow by the end this week.”

 

Alek remembered seeing Dylan awaken from that state and imagined an entire crew popping out of the snow with murderous intent.

 

“Then I can try to convince them once I get back,” Alek said, “Either way, I need to leave before it’s too late.”

 

Dylan studied him for a long time, before running a hand through his hair.

 

“Alright, alright,” he said, “But first come with me.”

 

Being lead through a ship of bloodthirsty monsters whilst simultaneously being full of blood gave Alek some perspective on what an unattractive lobster might feel like when cooks surrounded its tank. They would snap their heads up to inspect him as if they knew he was coming, study him for worth, and decide whatever they were doing was of a greater importance. This was disconcerting on its own, for all the Lady Boffin had assured his safety the law hadn’t stopped Dylan before, but Alek was thankful at least his interaction with the creatures was limited only a fearful glance.

 

The further they walked the more irritable Dylan himself became, until finally he signaled for Alek to stop. Then, much to Alek’s shock, he grunted and slammed his fist into a wall, leaving a sizable dent. The kind of dent that could damage even the storm walker, much to Alek’s horror.

 

From the way his body convulsed Dylan might have been breathing heavily, but upon closer inspection Alek could see he was merely twitching with some insane passion. Finally he seemed to compose himself, and looked pitifully back at Alek.

 

“Listen, I know this is all strange for you, but can you try to be a bit less… _scared?_ ”

 

Alek froze in his place, unsure if he should be offended at Dylan’s suggestion of cowardice or explain that he couldn’t exactly _help_ it.

 

“Alright, that was a daft thing to say,” Dylan admitted after some time, “But…its just I can _feel_ it.”

 

“Feel…what?” Alek asked, “Fear?”

 

“Aye,” Dylan croaked, “I can smell it on you, and your pulse is so loud I feel like you’re _beating_ me with it. I don’t know how everyone else feels, but _barking spiders_ can you calm down a little please?”

 

All Alek could do was nod slowly, unsure of how he would go about doing this. He supposed it was just something else to push away for later, like his parent’s death and the magnitude of the Pope’s letter. But then, it had been a lot easier to forget those things while held captive by monsters, Alek didn’t think there was anything more pressing then escaping this ship. He was about to say so when he saw the desperation on Dylan’s face, and for an absurd moment felt guilty that drinking his blood had made the boy so ill.

 

“I didn’t ask to be captured,” Alek said stiffly.

 

“ _I_ didn’t ask to be woken up,” Dylan retorted harshly, then his face softened into a smile, “I could be having a nice nap where you found me right now, only to be awoken once we’re all set to take off again.”

 

The way the boy spoke about laying dead in the snow almost sounded appealing.

 

“Could you not just do that now?” Alek asked, to which the boy shook his head.

 

“I don’t think I could sleep now if I ran a thousand miles,” he admitted, “But everyone says that’s normal after your first black out. Apparently I’ll be back to my usual self soon, and you can be as spooked as you like.”

 

This time the comment wasn’t entirely antagonistic, which Alek did not entirely appreciate.

 

“I’m not _afraid,_ ” he insisted, crossing his arms, “I would say that my concern is perfectly justified so long as I am trapped within this godless beast.”

 

Something about what he had said was funny to Dylan, he laughed like a real person might have and continued on his way. Alek fell in beside him, choosing to remain silent until they reached their destination. It seemed to be a store room of some kind, mostly destroyed by the crash but with the odd crate still in tact.

 

“You’ve spent most of the day Mesmerized,” Dylan said, “Which means it felt shorter, but you actually haven’t eaten in a long while.”

 

Just as Alek was about to protest, he felt a pang of hunger wrench through his gut. Dylan seemed to notice this and smiled sympathetically.

 

“This food’s for the beasties, but you definitely wont make it across the glacier if you don’t eat. Wont be a feast, but take whatever you can for now. Might keep you alive, and we’d really prefer you alive if you don’t mind.”

 

 

“A sentiment I share,” he admitted, “You needn’t wory.”

 

Dylan tossed him a brick of what turned out to be a packet of dried meat. Alek looked down at the suggestion in disgust, then sighed and went about unwrapping it. From his weeks on the run Alek could tell immediately that, while distasteful, the meat was fit for human consumption. Thinking of the hot bath he could have once this ordeal was over made it easier to eat the tasteless flesh, though he still felt his leather jacket would be easier to chew. After a valiant effort he no longer felt about to faint, but Dylan wasn’t finished rummaging through the crates yet.

 

“One more thing,” he said, coming up to Alek with a fistful or raw spinach.

 

Alek glanced between Dylan’s outstretched fist and his face.

 

“You cannot be serious.”

 

“I’m dead serious!” Dylan said, brows knitting together with concern, “Spinach is full of iron!”

 

Dylan said this with such emphasis that Alek felt he should have known what he was talking about. Apparently his blank expression tipped the boy off.

 

“You know, in the offhanded event you’ve been spontaneously suffering from an iron- deficiency for the last twenty-four hours.”

 

Alek felt it wasn’t even worth saying he didn’t know what an iron-deficiency was.

 

The boy groaned.

 

“ _Iron-deficiency,”_ he explained slowly, “Is a common side effect of ­ _blood loss.”_

 

Alek’s eyes widened as he took the offering, unable to think of what to say.

 

“Ah,” He finally managed.

 

The gesture was odd to him not only because he didn’t understand how eating spinach would somehow make up for bleeding all over the snow, but also in the nature behind it in the first place. Since the moment he had broken loose of that trance Dylan had done nothing but help Alek, even if most of it was inadvertently.

 

It was almost surreal, linking this boy back to the thing that had attacked him. The creature who had held him down in the snow couldn’t be capable of speech, or humor, or what Alek was realizing was a level of common decency.

 

“You aren’t…” Alek found himself saying, “At all what I expected.”

 

This caught Dylan’s attention, “How’d you mean?”

 

“I don’t know, I suppose when I picture a vampire- _apologies,_ ‘legal undead’, I see someone…” he waived a vague hand, “…perhaps a bit more fixated with candelabras and torture chambers.”

 

Dylan snorted at this, “I can’t say I have a preference for either, and any who have either got themselves staked or could afford a cure.”

 

“A cure?” Alek asked, “But Doctor Barlow said there _was_ no cure.”

 

“No _perfect_ cure, aye,” Dylan said, “But anyone with enough money can live as though they’re human just as well. The treatment is like the vaccine. It turns you back but is only temporary, and the amount you’d need to take to live out a normal lifespan is more then any of us could afford.”

 

He smirked, “If we could, there’d be no reason to be here, would there?”

 

Alek blinked at him, astonished.

 

When the Lady Boffin had described the undead as ‘victims’ and ‘infected’ he had to keep from rolling his eyes, but when he thought about it he supposed there was truth to the statement. It wasn’t as though Dylan had chosen to be an abomination. In all likelihood the boy had probably been attacked just as Alek had. And unlike Alek, his attacker hadn’t the decency to give him spinach afterwards. This was the past of all the men here, victims of circumstance left behind by the advancements of modern medicine.

 

The _Leviathan_ was little more than a ship of slaves.

 

“Is it awful?” Alek found himself asking, to which the boy smirked and shook his head.

 

“Believe it or not I wanted this life before turning,” he said, “Now I just know I’ll get to stay here forever.”

 

Alek searched for sadness in him but found none.

 

“So, that’s you’ve been doing, serving on this ship since you changed?” Another surreal thought occurred to him, “How old are you?”

 

“In my forties, I suspect,” Dylan admitted, “But there’s really no point in counting. I _know_ time is passing, but don’t feel as if a moment has gone by since I woke up underground.”

 

Though curious about the story behind that statement, Alek wasn’t quite ready to inquire. There were other more pressing questions that came to mind.

 

“Doctor Barlow insisted I didn’t need the vaccine, I didn’t tell you bit me because-“

 

“Because you wanted to blackmail me, aye,” Dylan interrupted with a smirk, “And now you’re wondering if you’re going to end up joining the crew.”

 

Dylan shook his head.

 

“For that to happen I’d have to take it all.” he said.

 

Alek sighed with relief, “Then it is a good thing I was able to shove you off."

 

“Shove _me_ off?” Dylan scoffed, “Not barking likely. I snapped out of it the same time you did. I jumped off because I wanted to, if I hadn’t there wasn’t anything you would have been able to do about it, _trust me_.”

 

The temperature of the room seemed to drop, if at all possible. Alek found himself flinching back instinctually, entirely outside his own influence.

 

Dylan picked up on his discomfort and chuckled lightly.

 

“It’d also take more then one trip. There’s a _lot_ of blood in the human body, and we’re roughly the same size. I don’t think I’d get away with draining you in one go,” he looked away awkwardly, “I’m having a hard enough time handling what I _did_ take.”

 

“I’m beginning to think the law against taking fresh blood is more for your sake then mine,” Alek mused aloud.

 

“I definitely _never_ plan on trying it again.”

**Author's Note:**

> also, I feel the need to mention that the "hot dead body" thing was a trope from the original novels. Often times the easiest way to tell a sleeping vampire from a corpse is that vamps are fricken ~Hot~ so there you go.


End file.
